To 776 Parkinson Street, Please
by MangaManiac6
Summary: She was the daughter of a CEO; he was the new taxi driver. They didn't have much of a chance of meeting, but they did anyway. Richgirl!SumirexTaxidriver!Koko. One Shot


**Summary:** She was the daughter of a CEO; he was the new taxi driver. They didn't have much of a chance of meeting, but they did anyway. Richgirl!SumirexTaxidriver!Koko. One Shot

**Warning:** A bit of cursing. Like two words.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Gakuen Alice or BBC Sherlock, just this story.

**To 776 Parkinson Street, Please**

**MangaManiac6**

Sumire Shouda absolutely hated being the daughter of a CEO. Much as it was hard to believe, Sumire hated going to parties she would rather not be at, meet people she would rather not meet, and date men she would rather not date, all for the sake of the company. She couldn't go outside without the threat of some paparazzi sniffing around. Her life consisted of going out for social events or staying at home learning the ins and outs of the Shouda Corporation, which she would take over when her father retired. She would do all this with a boiling resentment which went completely ignored.

She also wasn't allowed to eat any foods that had more than three hundred calories. She had "an image to keep for the Shouda Corp.!" as her mother would say, so it was "leafy, green this" or "low fat" that. This normally didn't mean the food would taste good. In fact, Sumire couldn't remember the last meal which had either filled her stomach completely or tasted decent.

Yes, Sumire absolutely hated everything about being the successor of the Shouda Corp. and the daughter of a CEO

Kokoro Yome absolutely hated being a taxi driver. Every morning at the crack of dawn he would get out of his warm, comfortable bed, haul himself out into the cold outdoors, and start up an ugly yellow cab. There, he would drive people to wherever the hell they wanted, usually in awful traffic. Sometimes it was fine, someone would board his cab, tell him where they wanted to go, get there, and pay him. Koko liked it like that. No contact; just service and payment. But sometimes Koko would get a really grumpy customer who would yell at him to go faster even when he was already going over the speed limit and would "forget" to give him a tip.

He didn't really have a choice. If he wanted to go to college, and not spend his entire life paying off student loans, he was going to have to work, no matter how bad the pay was or how annoying the hours were.

Koko wasn't even that good of a driver. He had just barely passed Driver's Ed. in high school with a C-. He swore that it was because the driving teacher had something against him, though.

Yes, Koko absolutely hated everything about being a taxi driver.

Koko growled. It was like no one needed a cab that night. Or rather, like no one wanted to get into his cab. He was sure this wasn't the case, but if he didn't get more customers, he wouldn't meet today's quota, and then he wouldn't get paid. Koko frowned, he didn't want that. He eyed the sidewalk filled with people, looking for anyone that looked like he or she might need a cab.

Sumire was, yet again, off to another business party. Though she knew many were envious of her lofty position, she couldn't understand it though. The new episode of _BBC Sherlock _was finally airing today and she was going to miss it to talk about things she didn't understand with people she didn't know, and didn't want to know. She also had to wear this ugly pink dress that pinched and hurt to move in; her mother's choosing of course.

Grabbing her matching purse, she exited the Shouda mansion, the New York City wind, immediately slapping her in the face. But it was refreshing. The smell was wretched, but it was completely different than the scented candles littering the estate. Sumire liked different.

She looked along the drive way. "Where's the limo?" she asked a nearby doorman, a short, young blond with violet eyes whom was obviously new to the job.

"I- I'm sorry Miss Shouda," The lad stuttered, "The limo has been delayed. I- It should only be a moment. The driver isn't _that _i- incompetent."

Another doorman, this time with medium length brown hair and green eyes shrieked, shushed the blond, and begged her not to say a word to the limo driver.

"I guess I'll go to the edge of the driveway and wait." Sumire said. She climbed down the stairs, ignoring the pleas of the doormen, and headed down the driveway. Though she lived in the center of the city, her residence still managed to contain a quarter of a mile driveway. This was nice though. Sumire couldn't remember the last time she had been allowed to walk so much.

She reached the end of the driveway and leaned against a pillar, glaring at the guard, daring him to ask her why she stood there. It seemed like the guard didn't dare, and continued to, like herself survey the passing cars and people.

It was about twenty minutes when a cab glided just in front of where Sumire stood. The window of the taxi lowered and a sand haired, blue eyed boy, the same age as herself, peered out. "'Scuse me, Miss." The driver said, "You need a cab?"

"Ms. Shouda is waiting for the limo, sir." The guard cut in, "Please lea—" He faltered by the death gaze Sumire gave him.

"The limo is taking too long. If I don't leave now, I shall miss the party." Sumire opened the cab door and entered it. Lowering her own window, she told the guard, "Please tell the limo driver that I have already left. Thanks."

She whispered, "Go." to the driver who drove off with a screeching noise before the guard could reply.

After about ten minutes of silence, Koko suddenly realized he hadn't asked his latest customer where he was taking her. "Where would you like to go, Miss?" Koko asked. He heard a tinkling laugh.

"Took you long enough to realize." Sumire smirked, "The address is Saint John Ave."

Koko's cheeks burned slightly as he nodded and switched lanes. 'Saint John Ave.?' he thought, ''Course. Richy destination for a richy client.'

"What's your name?" Sumire asked, at last tired of looking out the window.

"Why do you ask?" Koko asked, amused. This had been the first time the client had started the conversation. He had tried chatting with the clients at first. It hadn't been too enjoyable.

"Small talk." Sumire said simply.

"Hm, okay. Name's Kokoro Yome. You can call me Koko. Your name, if I might ask, Miss?"

"Sumire Shouda. Sumire's fine with me." Koko hadn't expected permission to call her by her first name. "Oh, and smile for Pete's sake."

"Huh?"

"Smile. That expression of yours scares me a bit. I can't be the only one to say that."

"You are, but if you want me too…" Koko attempted a smile. For some reason the muscles in his face felt strained.

"Good. You look less scary."

Koko's smile widened, "Hey, you want some howalen?"

"Howalen?" Sumire's eyes widened and a bit of drool dripped from her mouth. She had only once tried the delicious sweet, when she was ten years old. A new maid with brown pigtails had offered it to her. It was the most delicious thing she had ever eaten. She loved it, and always asked for the maid to bring her some. Of course when her mother found out, the maid had been promptly fired, but Sumire had never forgotten the sugary howalen. "Yes. Yes, please."

Koko held the box out to her, expecting a howalen to be taken when he felt the entire box lift from his hand. "Hungry, huh? Don't they feed you up in that mansion?"

"Not really." Sumire answered truthfully, putting a howalen into her mouth. It melted when it reached her tongue. It was so _good. _She knew her mother could tell she had eaten it later when she was weighed that night, but she didn't care.

"Hey! Share some!" Koko said, laughing.

As they drove to Saint John Avenue, they talked: about who they were, what their lives were like, and how they hated everything about said lives. They found they had nothing in common, except for their love of howalen and their hatred of their own economic status.

"How could you hate being a CEO's daughter? If I were you, I wouldn't have to work for college." Koko said, sighing dreamily.

Sumire laughed, "They wouldn't let you. You would just be taught about the company and that's all you need to know. Maybe a few finance courses but that's about it."

"Really? That sucks. I wanna go to art school myself. Never been a finance person."

"See? Just because you have money, doesn't mean you get to do what you want. You're the luck one. All you have to do it work and you can do and be what you want."

It was Koko's turn to laugh, "You think that? I've been saving for college since I was twelve. My parents didn't help much. I still don't have enough. And trust me; it isn't easy for a seventeen year old to get a job in this economy."

Koko continued, still smiling as requested, grumbling about the economic crisis and how he would probably get laid off soon. Sumire never had to get a job before or compete for a position with others, but it sounded stressful. She knew she would have to when she took over the company though.

"I don't want to run the company!" She yelled in between Koko's rambling.

"Then don't."

"What?"

"You heard me. Tell them you don't want to run the company and pursue your own dream." Koko said calmly.

Sumire blushed. It was the first time she had heard someone say it was okay not to be the CEO. Someone had finally told her it's okay to be something different. She had always wanted to be a teacher.

"Oh, we're here." Sumire blinked. She recognized the house. It belonged to the Hyuuga Family. The Hyuuga Corporation was one of the biggest in the world, even bigger than the Shouda Corporation.

"What?' Sumire asked dumbly.

"We're here. 31 Saint John Avenue." Koko's voice sounded regretful, as if sad to say the address.

Sumire blinked, than finally growled, "What? I said 776 Parkinson Street. Weren't you listening?"

Sumire put her hand to her mouth and blushed. What was she saying? They were at the correct address. She knew the party she should have been at a half an hour ago was just in front of her, she could hear the music and chatter from outside, but she didn't want to exit the cab. Not yet.

Koko eyes widened slightly, but then he smiled. An extremely happy smile; one that Koko didn't know he could make. "My apologies, Miss." He started the car and drove out of the drive way and into the street. He had no idea where 776 Parkinson Street was or if it even existed.

But he wanted to know more about her, and for the first time, he was having fun at work.

She wanted to know about more about him, and for the first time, she wanted to talk more with someone and get to know them better.

"Yeah, to 776 Parkinson Street, please."

* * *

I absolutely love this couple. I always like the kind, humorous one with the tsundere.

I tried to add a bit of canon in the story: how Sumire tells Koko to smile more.

I also secretly hinted at Hetalia because I can. Can you figure it out?

Reviews are appreciated!

-MM6


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